Image credit, Maklay62
For centuries, concentrated power and wealth have shaped the political and economic landscapes of nations. Across Europe, particularly in Russia and Greece, these dynamics have long been associated with a term derived from the Greek “oligarkhia,” meaning “rule by the few.” It evokes images of a privileged elite controlling industries, politics, and society to serve their interests. However, when we examine North America—specifically the United States, Canada, and Mexico—despite similar power structures, this descriptor (Oligarch) is conspicuously absent. The question is why. Why is the concept of elite domination so readily acknowledged abroad but euphemized or ignored in the context of Western democracies?
This distinction becomes especially perplexing when analyzing the political framework of the United States. American democracy, in theory, prioritizes representation for the many, yet in practice often reflects the priorities of the few. A stark example lies in the presidency of Donald Trump. As a billionaire businessman turned president, Trump exemplified the fusion of wealth and power, surrounding himself with a cabinet composed of billionaires, corporate executives, and members of his own family. Figures like Elon Musk, Linda McMahon, and Jared Kushner not only will occupy prominent roles but actively shaped policies, ensuring alignment with the interests of their financial class.
Trump’s 2016 campaign provides further evidence of how wealth dominates the American political landscape. It was bankrolled by enormous sums from affluent donors, some contributing tens of millions of dollars to secure influence in the future administration. This phenomenon isn’t limited to Trump; it spans the political spectrum. High-profile contributors, from conservative industrialists like the Koch brothers to progressive magnates like George Soros, consistently use their resources to steer policy decisions and election outcomes. Whether the issue is tax reform, healthcare, or climate change, these elites exert outsized control over the direction of governance.
Why, then, does North America avoid labeling its wealthiest citizens oligarchs an title that truly reflect their overwhelming influence? Part of the answer lies in cultural narratives. The United States, in particular, glorifies financial success through the mythos of the American Dream. Wealth is celebrated as a mark of hard work and innovation rather than a symptom of systemic inequality. This romanticized perspective shields the ultra-rich from the type of scrutiny their counterparts in other nations endure. While Russian billionaires are often framed as corrupt tycoons, Western billionaires are hailed as job creators and philanthropists, even when their activities exacerbate inequities.
The language used to describe these power dynamics is also shaped by geopolitical biases. In the West, the term oligarchs is most often served as shorthand for corruption and anti-democratic behavior in countries like Russia. To apply it to North America would challenge the deeply ingrained belief that democracy here is fundamentally robust. Acknowledging the similarities between elite influence in the U.S. and countries historically associated with this type of rule would mean confronting uncomfortable truths about the erosion of democratic principles.
However, the parallels are impossible to ignore. Since the Supreme Court’s Citizens United decision in 2010, corporations and wealthy individuals have been allowed to spend unlimited amounts on political campaigns, effectively amplifying the voices of the rich while silencing ordinary voters. This legal framework has enabled the wealthiest citizens to shape policy in ways that benefit themselves disproportionately. The revolving door between government and corporate America further entrenches this system. Leaders frequently move between public office and the private sector, using their positions to prioritize corporate interests over those of the general public.
These dynamics are not unique to the United States. In Canada, key industries like banking, energy, and telecommunications are dominated by a small number of powerful corporations, whose influence over government policies is significant. Mexico also reflects this concentration of power, with figures like billionaire investor Carlos Slim playing pivotal roles in shaping the nation’s economy and infrastructure. Despite these realities, these elites are rarely described in terms that highlight their extraordinary control over national and regional systems.
What sustains this reluctance to name the reality? The sanitized framing of North American wealth conceals the extent to which these individuals undermine democratic processes. Refusing to acknowledge the extent of their dominance allows the myth of equality under democracy to persist, even as policies overwhelmingly favor the few. In reality, the line between public service and private gain has blurred to the point of indistinction.
The consequences of this dynamic are far-reaching. Widening income inequality, stagnating wages, and the erosion of the middle class are just a few of the symptoms of a system that prioritizes the interests of billionaires over ordinary citizens. The lack of accountability for these individuals further exacerbates public disillusionment with democratic institutions.
The absence of a suitable term to describe this system of rule is not merely a matter of semantics. Words shape perceptions, and the refusal to acknowledge the parallels between power structures in North America and those traditionally criticized abroad obscures the urgency of addressing these inequities. Recognizing the dominance of wealth in shaping governance is essential to restoring balance and ensuring that democracy functions as intended.
The parallels between North American elites and their European oligarchical counterparts challenge the illusion of exceptionalism that shields the West from critique. Power concentrated in the hands of a few, whether through campaign finance, lobbying, or direct participation in governance, fundamentally undermines democratic principles. Acknowledging this reality is not just a matter of accuracy; it is a necessary step toward reclaiming a system that serves the many, not just the few. Ignoring these truths perpetuates a system where wealth continues to dictate the rules, leaving little room for true representation.